


The Secret Life of Letters

by atemplarteaparty



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Long-Term Relationship(s), Some angst, romantic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 19:56:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5640007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atemplarteaparty/pseuds/atemplarteaparty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After meeting at a staff Christmas party Shaun was less than enthusiastic about going to, Charlotte is determined to keep coming back until he "gets it".  She quickly settles on refusing to give up on him, and once her feelings are shared, they seem a fairy tale fit. This can only last so long, with his deep delving into conspiracies and secret societies bringing the strange weight of the world onto their shoulders.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Secret Life of Letters

**Author's Note:**

> This is a multi-chapter fic that is being adapted from the novel written for NaNo '15. (Oh god, please save me from the edits!) The book is a completed work, but will only be uploaded as I can edit chapters out of the 80k long trainwreck (dat first draft). Canon-friendly ending. (Well until something beyond Unity/Syndicate comes out and gives Shaun a seriously heavy backstory and everything here is dead wrong. Then it can be an AU. Right guys? SPOILERS.)

“Hey!” She had called out to him only for him to completely miss he was the one she was shouting after.. 

“Doctor Hastings!” Oh that did it, and he turned around, letting her catch up, running from the linguistics building as he passed by. 

“Hi..” She grinned at him, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“Erm, Hello….” He took a long moment to study her face, looking behind himself thinking he’d dropped something to be stopped so suddenly. “You’re the… one from the staff Christmas party, right?” She grinned wickedly at him. 

“That would be me, yes, I’m Charlotte.. So… going anywhere important?” He’d shaken his head but her intention had gone firmly over it. This got her to chuckle at him affectionately, and shifted to stand more in front of him. “Have time for a tea in my office? It’s terribly cold out here.”

“I.. was heading home, but I could go for tea, maybe.” He’d only give in for tea, and didn’t immediately catch on that she was doing it exclusively to flirt. Charlotte figured she could fix that, given enough time. 

Her office was remarkably cozy, but absolutely covered in everything French, including a massive poster of Les Miserables broadway showing. She’d put tea pods in the coffee maker, the dirty heathen, using a machine for both! It was still good, or maybe just because it was freezing outside.. She cleaned off the second chair in front of her desk, piling up books and her slowly growing work sweater collection onto her desk instead so she could sit beside him with her mug and watched the rain start to fall outside the tiny window across from them. 

“Well, the universe is trying to tell me something..” She laughed warmly, looking over at him with her eyes lit up.

“Oh?” He blinked at her completely engrossed in his mug of tea that he hadn’t noticed the rain until she pointed out the window.

“I pulled you by force out of the oncoming rain, and made tea. That’s the only thing rain is good for..” He frowned slightly “Every day though?” 

She chuckled still, holding her mug to her face. “But is tea ever bad?” He face slowly relented, sipping his too. “No.. No it isn’t.” 

Halfway down into her tea she mentioned how she was starting the semester for the low level class, including her preference for sharing French history to go with language learning. When he got to do the same, he gave her an impassioned description, hanging on to the chair and talking it over until well after dark. Shaun seemed absolutely engrossed in his topic and she could listen to him until the sun rose again if he pushed hard enough. Eventually though, Charlotte would set her mug down after they’d talked until nearly midnight, with him just barely getting to the end of a story. 

“I don’t suppose you’d like to keep talking to me, with dinner?” He’d relent his story telling long enough to catch the last train with her, barely making it on time. They had to get off a bit on the wrong stop as the service was closing for the night and instead walk the extra way home. Once they got to her building and into her tiny flat they were freezing and soaking wet, but she put on more tea and starting cooking at midnight. He seemed quite unaware of the time that had passed, other than being freezing cold, and continued on with his story from her office, with her working around him. She’d pour a pair of wine glasses, and press one in his hands, finishing up dinner in a hurry.

As she lacked a proper dining table still, she’d make perfectly neat plates and promptly crash on the kitchen floor, inviting him down beside her. He seemed to adore his field, and in attempt to keep things going she interjected that she really only knew much of the French Revolution, as she had to cover it with the Freshmen who were going to breeze right through and decide Linguistics were not for them. 

This set a different fire to his eyes, and she could participate this time, ending up eating in the kitchen out of serving pots while debating the role of a minor player in the tennis court treaties. He’d stay well past dinner, even getting up and pushing his sleeves up to wash the dishes for her, having made dinner for him. His passion threatened to talk to her until the morning light, just to have someone to pleasantly argue with or who listened to him at such lengths..

“Shaun, you know it’s 3am, yeah?” She grinned lightly at him from where she was sitting on the tiny countertop space. “No.. I did -not- know that.. I am so sorry.” He suddenly stopped, flustered again, and frowned. Her grin shifted into a reassuring smile and she hopped down, offering him a gentle cheek kiss, staying close to him as a silent offer for more. He visibly turned red and stammered out that it was lovely, and he was not looking forward to walking home, but he’d see her in the morning. 

Charlotte gently draped his coat over his shoulders before he left it spread across her tiny couch, and let him out into the night. At least the rain had stopped for a while. “Good night Shaun.”

The next morning on her way to work, she’d order two muffins at the coffee shop and an extra cup of tea with a soft smile. She would run to catch up to him passing, as a shuffling, exhausted zombie. “Shaun... Morning!” She smiled brightly at him and gently pressed breakfast in his hands, walking the rest of the way to his building with him. 

“I enjoyed last night.” The look his zombie-esque face slowly turned to give her was as though she was speaking another language for a moment and then brightened up significantly. 

“You did? I… I did too.” He’d almost stutter out in a fluster, holding the little bakery bag and tea she gave him and rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes gave her a softer look and he trudged towards the building without her. “Maybe again?” He finally remembered to call back to her from the door and she enthusiastically nodded at him while snickering lightly to herself. 

She’d be terrifyingly awake and chipper this particular morning, bouncing her way through bleary eyed freshman that had no other choice than an eight am class and slightly more awake French majors, who relied on her for their dose of French literature. Around the fourth hour she was having trouble telling which language was which and realized the three cups of espresso she’d slammed before work weren’t holding her up any more. This prompted retreating to lunch with her friends in the department, and scribble notes in the margins of her pages, trying to decide when to follow up, or if she could just start following him around with a sign that said “I’m interested” and hit him with it until he understood.

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse some strange formatting as it's converted, and let me know if there are -super major wtf- level errors in my posts! And god please tell me if you're a great title writer. I need your help.


End file.
